


Better

by Vrunka



Category: Band of Brothers, The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrunka/pseuds/Vrunka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babe is jealous. Roe is clueless. And somehow Sledge is stuck in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a cross-over Pacific/Band of Brothers college verse. I'm pretty sure that's kosher. Also, no disrespect is meant regarding the real people, this is based off of the characters from the show.

Sledge is almost surprised by Babe’s entrance. Almost. Because he’s used to Babe entering in a rush, all awkward limbs and elbows and knees, some kids rhyme gone awry. But it usually isn’t a volatile show, gnashing teeth and thrown backpacks and curses. Yeah, there’s definitely an element of violence this time. The way Babe practically slams the door once he’s through it. How he tosses himself back against it, and puts his hands to his forehead and basically screams into his arms. Screams without opening his mouth, through his nose.

And while Sledge would normally rate his will to live on the high end of the scale, and it looks like Babe is ready to tear heads off with his teeth, he can’t help being worried. Can’t stop from closing his laptop, and leaning back. “You all right there, Babe?” He asks, watching and careful. Because its’ Babe, and he’s more prone to hurting himself in a fit of rage than of denting anything else.

Babe looks up from his hands, looking surprised himself, his mouth an open little ‘oh’ of confusion. He blushes almost immediately, shuts his mouth with an audible snap. “Sledge,” he starts then he sighs and shuffles and manages, “you saw all that didn’t you?”

“Whole thing.” Sledge confirms, nodding. “Not your usual display, I must say. So I repeat, everything okay?”

Babe chuckles, a low sound, deep in his thin chest. A defeated one too, which hurts Sledge to hear more than it should. “Yeah,” Babe says slowly, crossing to his bed, practically throwing himself onto it, “I’m, well, I’ll be okay.” He sighs, scrubs a hand over his face. “No. I am okay.” He glances at Sledge. “I’m a little fucking ticked off you might say.”

Sledge grins, nose wrinkling, shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say that, Babe. You almost tore the dorm down with your tantrum’s all.”

Babe fakes a laugh, flicking Sledge off as he does. “Sarcasm noted, asshole.” He says, dead pan, rolling to his side. “It’s just Gene.”

“What’d I do this time?”

“Ha ha ha. Roe. It’s just Roe.” Babe amends and saying the name seems to deflate him. His shoulders curl in and his legs curl up. His expression falls into one that Sledge would categorize somewhere between starving orphan and kicked puppy. This has become serious.

“What happened?” Sledge asks, laying his computer to the side, focusing all of his energy on Babe, who is clearly hurting. “I thought you guys were like best friends.”

Babe shrugs, tugs his hair. “We are. I think. I guess. I mean, there’s Guarnere.” He shifts, shakes his head. “Or. Whatever. I don’t know.”

“You’re going to have to give me more to go on than half-sentences, I’m afraid, Babe.” Sledge says, tipping his head encouragingly. Hoping to coax it out. He certainly hopes that isn’t as serious as Babe’s entrance fit has him believing, because if it is, he’ll have to kick Eugene Roe’s skinny ass. Or have Snafu do it for him. And he can’t imagine the floor taking that well at all. Not in the least.

“It’s just. I haven’t seen him in a while, you know? He had that big Biology exam and then we had that English essay, the poetry analysis shit, remember?” Babe says, falling into a rhythm. Sledge nods, he remembers the essay; it hadn’t been due more than a week ago, though Babe had waited until the last minute to even start doing it. “So we’re busy. I get that. I’d see him in the com kitchen making mac and cheese and we’d smile and nod, but I knew that he had stuff to do, or that I did, so I didn’t bother him. But then, yesterday, I saw him in the laundry room and I was like ‘dude, we haven’t hung out in forever, want to get lunch tomorrow?’ and he said ‘sho’ in that stupid easy way he has of saying sure and I was like, awesome, this is it, we’ll hang out and it’ll be great.”

“Except it didn’t work out that way?” Sledge leads, feeling Babe falter.

“No shit Sherlock. He texts me this afternoon, won’t be able to get lunch, he got his test back and he bombed it. Or got a B or something. I dunno. But anyway, he has to review the notes. So I say, that’s fine, I’ll just bring you something, you know? We can eat in, I’ll soundboard for your studying or whatever. But he says no. He actually needs to focus and apparently my gratifying presence isn’t conducive to that. Okay, fine, I’ll buy it. Hell, I chatter. I know it. But I say, we’re grabbing dinner. No excuses. And he says okay.

“I was even willing to eat here. Stole two of your Chef Boiardis, sorry about that.” Babe mutters, not even waiting for Sledge to shrug before he forges ahead. “But anyway, so I’m standing by the com microwave fucking cooking ravioli in a can, which I don’t even fucking eat but for some reason it’s Gene’s favourite, and I’m waiting for the stupid thing to pop because everyone knows it isn’t actually cooked until one of the noodles explodes from the heat and I turn around and there’s Gene.

“And all he says is, ‘I’m sorry, Edward’. And I know. He’s not going to eat with me. And I look behind him and there’s Renee.” Babe sighs. Even though he can’t, Sledge totally feels like he can hear Babe’s teeth grinding.

“Girls’ floor Renee?” Sledge asks.

Babe rolls his eyes. “Yes, Sledge, girls’ floor Renee, you’d think that’d be obvious, since we’re fucking divided by gender here. She lives upstairs, one floor. First girls’ floor. Roommates with Harry’s girl.”

“Kitty?”

“Yeah. Her. But anyway. Apparently Renee came downstairs and pulled her French charms. Was all, ‘I thought you promised to eat with me, cher.’” Babe imitates, pulling a terrible French accent. “’We were going to review notes from class today.’ She says. Stupid bitch.” He says, holding his head in his hands. From the angle he’s on, it almost looks like Babe is going to cry.

“You just called Renee Lemaire a bitch.” Sledge says, quietly, a smile hiding somewhere on the edges of his voice.

Babe sighs again. “I know,” he says, clearly hopeless, “and she’s like actually the nicest person ever. I hear she works with retarded kids in the summers. Some Special Kid camp or something.”

Sledge nods. “I’m pretty sure she saves puppies. And feeds the homeless, too. And cures kid cancer.”

“God, don’t rub it in.” Babe nearly moans, rolling back onto his back, covering his eyes. “She’s a saint. Or a knight or something. I don’t know. Perfect human. Fucking bitch.”

“She stole your date.” Sledge says, still smiling.

“Would you not, Sledge. It’s really not helping.” He says. Then he pauses, uncovers his eyes. Glares hard at Sledge. “Roe and I did not have a date.”

“Sure you did. Made plans for dinner. And not just any dinner. Homemade, Gene’s favourite too. To be enjoyed, just the two of you. Seems like a date.” Sledge says, crossing his arms. “You had to know it was a date.”

“It was not a date. I don’t even. He just helps when.” Babe throws one of his arms over his eyes and moans again, though this time it is a wordless, shifting sound. A lost keen. “God. It totally was a date, wasn’t it? Fucking Christ. What do I even do about that?”

“Dunno. Sid might.”

“Sid Phillips Sid?”

“Yeah. He was kissed by a guy in high school.” Sledge says with a frown. As if he’s just caught on to what he’s saying. He thinks maybe Babe will just ignore it and let it pass but now Babe’s sitting up, as if this is the light at the end of the tunnel, the moment where all the issues he has about himself are put to the torch.

“Sid Phillips like your best friend?” Babe persists. Nearly falling over himself with how far he’s leaning.

Sledge sighs. “Yeah. But, you know, don’t ask him about it, Babe. He probably doesn’t even remember.”

“How could he not? Did he turn the guy down? Did he slug him? Do you think Roe would slug me? Did he know it was a date? He couldn’t have, right? I mean, I didn’t even know until just now. Maybe he knew and he was thrilled Renee showed up. Do you think that could be? She’s blonde, Sledge. Blonde. Not from a bottle. I’m like ninety percent positive on this one. And she’s selfless. She gave him chocolate one time. Chocolate. A huge bar, not those stupid ‘fun size’ ones either. God, I bet she gives out king-sized bars to kids on Halloween. I bet you that’s her house.” Babe rants, hands pressing to his temples. And though Sledge is vaguely amused by the thought of Babe giving himself a coronary over the entire thing, he knows it’s not the right thing to allow.

Instead he says, “Babe, Sid won’t remember because he was piss drunk. And I remember only because I was slightly less piss drunk. But not enough not drunk not to kiss him.” Babe’s rant ceases mid-thought (something about Renee spilling rain over landlocked deserts to soothe the aborigines) and Sledge can see Babe’s brain trying to wrap around the thought. His mouth opens and closes and opens. “You look like a fish.” Sledge says, smiling lightly.

Babe shakes his head. “So wait, you kissed Sid?” He asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. But I mean, it was like. Forever ago. And we were drunk.”

“So then you lied. You know my boat very well.”

“Not so much. I kissed him, laughed when he pushed me away and proceeded to act like it never happened.” Sledge admits, shrugging. His shoulders snap up suddenly and he points accusingly at Babe. “You can’t talk about this, by the way. Roommate silence or whatever. Secret.”

“Sure thing, Gene.” Babe nods. “You two are okay now though right?”

“I guess. He’s never really around, not sure if you noticed. He spends most of his time one floor up. Hitting on all the girls like Renee, I guess.”

Babe snorts quietly and smiles. “Like a majority of our floor, you mean. I never see Harry. Or Buck.”

“This is all off topic though,” Sledge says, rolling his head on his neck, feeling the stiffness from the way he’s been sitting. “The point is, what are you going to do about Roe? And your stood-up, non-date?”

Babe huffs a sigh, dangles his legs off the edge of his bed. “I still have the ravioli.” He mutters. “Left it on the counter, I was so upset. Probably cold by now. Guess I get it, eat it, call it a night. Cold dinner’s better than no dinner, right?”

“You could do that.” Sledge agrees, tilting his head. “Or you could go get it, put a note on it and leave it for Roe. Tell him you’re really sorry he had other plans and that you hope to hang out in the future.”

“Isn’t that a little whiney?”

“I dunno. Maybe. But your way sounds like my way. My way didn’t end up so well, if you want to know the truth. I’m fine now,” he stresses, when Babe opens his mouth, “seriously. I am. But then. It hurt. I think it always hurts. And Roe wants to be a doctor. He doesn’t want to hurt people like that. So you let him know, not accusingly, don’t blame him, but let him know it hurt. And that you really want his friendship.”

“Jesus,” Babe says after a few moments, “I mean like, really? What are you, Sledge? Personal relations councilor?”

“I think that’s Lipton’s job.” Sledge says with a smile. “I just. We’ve lived together for what, two months? Almost three. You’re like one of my best friends, Babe. And I think Roe sees it too. He wouldn’t look out for you the way he does if he didn’t. I don’t want to see this ruin you. Or him.” He rolls his shoulders. “Maybe that’s dumb though.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Babe makes a face, a small line forming between his brows. “Just oddly mature.” He shrugs, the line disappearing, smoothing out instantly. “I should go get that ravioli, I guess. Unless someone’s eaten it.” He frowns at the thought and Sledge laughs. If he had to take bets, he’d bet it had been eaten. Unattended food doesn’t tend to last long in the common room.

***

It is twenty minutes more before Roe shows back up, smiling but alone. Twenty minutes and Babe’s ass is pretty sore from slumming it on the floor outside Roe’s room. Not that he’s going to let on to that. He stands when he sees Roe, practically leaps out of his skin in an effort to get upright. But then Roe can always tell with him.

“What’s got you so stiff?” Roe asks, nothing but concern in his voice. Babe shrugs out of Roe’s range, before Roe can go and touch him and send him all to pieces again.

“I’m fine.” He insists, stepping back, so Roe can unlock his dorm. He keeps the container with the cold ravioli behind his back. Embarrassed that he even brought it over. Waited twenty minutes with it gripped in his hands.

“Got aspirin.” Roe says. And though it doesn’t sound like a question or an offer, Babe knows it is.

“Sure.” He says, a little reluctant. “Aspirin would be fine.”

“How’d you hurt yourself this time?” Roe asks, moving to the medicine cabinet above the sink, grabbing down a bottle without even reading the label. “Trip down the stairs again?”

“I haven’t tripped in like a week, Gene. Thanks for believing in my capacity to handle myself.” He can’t help the sulk in his voice, the slight hurt. Because he doesn’t expect anyone to actually believe he won’t hurt himself, but it would be nice if they faked it sometimes. He takes the aspirin with his free hand with a muttered, “Thank you.” And dry swallows it because he knows Roe hates it when he does.

“That will rip you up.” Roe says. “Should drink water with it, Edward.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” He answers, not even a little cold, but full on frigid. He’s making it awkward because he can’t help it. And he doesn’t want to give Roe the stupid Chef Boiardi because Roe won’t even fucking appreciate because he has Renee to go to the dining hall with him and they can talk medicine all day and what does Babe have? “How was your dinner?” He asks, before he can stop himself. There is no small amount of venom in his voice. And he hates how like a scorned woman he sounds. A stuck-up, stood-up broad.

Roe smiles, apparently missing the poison pill in Babe’s words. “Dinner was great.” He says. “I don’t know what it is, but being able to go over everything with Renee is,” he sighs, then catches himself, looking over at Babe like he’s burned himself, “not that I.” His voice falters, stumbling over his words, the hurt they’ve caused, the hurt he can feel even though Babe has made no motion. “I am sorry, you know. About not eating with you today. I really am. I just, I had promised Renee and I feel so bad when I break my promises.”

Babe does sit at that, heavily. He misses the bed by a foot. Falls onto his already aching ass, swearing and wincing and barely keeping the ravioli from spilling all over the floor. He’s lucky it’s one of those self-sealing bowls, the kind that cooks up with the ravioli right in it. “Fuck.” He hisses, the word edging out from between his teeth. Roe is at his side in an instant, all worried eyes and helpful hands. He pulls Babe to standing, guides him back to the bed.

“You okay?” He asks, removing the ravioli from Babe’s grip without asking what it is. And though Babe has heard that question from Roe at least one thousand times since the start of the semester, it never feels clinical, or detached. It always sounds like Roe cares. Every single time. Maybe it’s just part of his appeal, why Roe will one day make the best doctor ever, but part of Babe hopes that it’s just for him. All the care.

Babe levels him a glance, meeting Roe’s gaze even though it’s the hardest thing in all the world. “I’m not okay.” He says, after a long, unbearable pause. “Really. I’m not.” Roe goes into immediate doctor mode, his hands reaching for Babe’s face, his shoulders, checking for injury with swift precision, but Babe swats his hands away. “It’s not physical, dumbass.” He grits, enjoying the way Roe reacts to the name calling. Babe would lay money sweet little Renee would ever say something so crass to him.

Roe frowns. “Okay. Fine. What’s the problem then?”

“I would think that is a pretty fucking obvious thing, Gene. I always took it you doctor types were smart.”

“I already apologized, Babe. I don’t know what else you--,” And then Roe seems to get it. He looks over to the bowl he’s placed on the counter. Not asking what it was. Not even reading the label, just assuming it was Babe’s and that it shouldn’t be spilled. He takes a breath, looks back to Babe. “Oh, is that--,”

“It’s not anything.” Babe says, quietly. “Don’t worry about it. You had dinner with Renee,” he says, unable to stop himself, the deep hurt in it, “and it was fun. You guys had fun. I’m sure. She’s pretty and like, just like you. She works with retarded kids and she gives you chocolate and she’s perfect and I’m sure you guys never run out of things to say to each other. Because deep down you’re both perfect.” He laughs, a desperate, lonely sound and he knows how it sounds and what it is and he hates it but he can’t help it, cannot even though he wants to. “And who am I to get in the way of that? I haven’t even picked my major yet.”

“What are you talking about, Babe?” Gene asks.

“Fuck. I don’t know.” Babe cradles his head in his hands because he can’t bear to look at Gene after that soul purge. “I should be happy for you, by all rights, because that’s what we do right? We support one another.” He looks up. “Because we’re best friends.”

Roe frowns. “Thought Bill was that.”

“God, I don’t know. Bill or Sledge or Toye or Julian. I have a lot of best friends, Gene.” He says soberly. “Too many, really. So many I don’t need any more. Because there’s Renee and she can give you your perfect match and all I’ve got is fucking cold Chef Boiardi. It was probably overdone when it was hot anyway. I can’t cook for shit.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Roe tips his head, like he’s trying to read Babe through the way Babe is sitting. Like Babe is some strange new blood sample or disease and if he just stares a little bit harder he’ll understand it. Unlock all his secrets. “How can I not worry?” He says finally. Grinning. “Spend most of my day just worrying over you. If you’ve fallen and broken your arm, or your head.” He stands up and fetches the ravioli from where he’d sat it down. Pops the top off and fishes a spoon out of his desk.

“Don’t eat that shit.” Babe says. “I don’t need you to act like you want it. It’s been out for like an hour.”

Roe looks at him blankly, dipping the spoon in and coming back out with a few pasta squares. “You crazy?” He asks, smiling faintly. “This stuff’s probably best cold. Or room temperature.” He takes a bite and smiles even wider over it and Babe finds himself inclined to believe that smile. “Anyway,” Roe continues, once he’s swallowed, “guess how many classes Renee and I have together?”

“I’d just as soon not talk about her anymore today. Like I said, chick’s a fucking saint. Send me to Vatican, I’ll give her the fucking medal myself, so long as I never have to talk about her again.”

“You don’t get medals for that.” Roe responds, curling his feet under him. “And I’m not letting you off the hook. We’re talking about this.”

“I thought you wanted to be a surgeon, not a psychiatrist.” Babe complains lightly. But he follows Roe’s lead, leans back on the headboard, bringing his feet up on the bed.

Roe ignores him. “We have four classes together this semester.” He takes another thoughtful bite of the ravioli. “Four. Of five. And that fifth class I have with you, Babe.”

Babe feels himself blush. “Really?”

Roe nods. “Yeah really. I see her a lot throughout the day. And it isn’t like those classes are easy or nothin’. Most of em are a fight, you know? So we study together, because it’s easier to succeed as two than one. And sure, she’s pretty, but what do I want with someone who’s essentially me? Do you know what we talk about over food?” Babe shakes his head. “Muscle groups. Parts of the brain. Nerve cells and sensory imaging. We talk about tendons, bone structure. What to do when someone’s bleeding out in front of you.”

“What do you do?” Babe asks, a little mystified.

Roe blinks, slowly. Then he answers. “Depends on the wound.” He says, and he’s touching Babe’s knee. “Not on an artery, you can tourniquet. Try and cut the flow, put a seal. Mostly you apply pressure. You put your hands together and give it your all. Put everything you’ve got into it. All the pressure you can. And you don’t stop until it does.” And Babe isn’t quite sure how it works out this way, but suddenly Roe is kissing him, not forcefully, but firmly. Like there’s no question in his mind. And Babe kisses back, how could he not?

He has the frame of mind to arch his head back, gasping for a bit of air and managing a, “What are you doing, Gene?”

“Applying pressure?” He answers, breath warm on Babe’s cheek, leg pressed tight and perfect against Babe’s crotch. And for all the reasons in the world that Babe shouldn’t be okay with this, he totally is. And Gene’s answer is enough for him to press their lips together again.

***

Sledge is again aware that something is very much up when Babe stumbles back to their room and its well after midnight. He looks up from the online reading that he’s still struggling with to appraise the way Babe saunters into the room. All smiles and satisfied energy. He closes the door behind him quietly and practically floats over to his bed.

Sledge cracks a return smile, eyebrow cocking. “If I didn’t know better,” he says, shutting his computer with a snap, “I’d say you seem pretty happy. Almost like you got your dream date with Eugene Roe and he ravaged you good and proper.” And Sledge is totally joking but as soon as he says it Babe sits up and he’s blushing like a fire hydrant and Sledge knows, he knows and it’s wrong and gross, but he has to know everything, right then and there. “Oh my fucking Christ, I was right!” It’s not a shout, just under being a shout, more like a very hushed yell. He throws himself off his bed and scrambles over to Babe’s kneeling with his arms resting on the mattress. “Tell me everything.”

Babe makes a face, mouth and nose crinkling up. “Everything, everything?”

Sledge matches the face, wriggles around, uncomfortable. Then he smiles. “Yes! Absolutely. You have to. I’m the reason this happened.”

Babe smiles at that. “Yeah, no, I know.” His smile widens. “And I definitely wanted to tell you everything but then I was like, he will flip out and you probably will but oh fuck I don’t even care because Roe fucking kissed me. He did it. He started it and he was the one who grabbed my crotch and oh my god it was amazing you don’t even understand, Sledge. It was amazing.”

Sledge does flip out. A lot. He’s pretty sure his ears are bleeding when Babe says crotch so casually. But the teenage girl in him, the one he really had no idea existed until Babe floated in on cloud nine, can’t find the means to give a shit about his discomfort. She instead pushes out, “He grabbed your crotch? Like hand on dick?”

“No.” Babe says. “Not like that far. We made out. For like, I dunno. A long time and he had my shirt off and there was a hand in my pants but not like in my pants and the button was undone but not the zipper and I don’t even know how that works and I didn’t get to touch him, well his cock at least, I touched his chest though and he has really sensitive nipples and it led to this discussion about why your nipples get hard when they’re cold, or rubbed which was really, really fucking weird. It’s like he gets off on teaching me doctor stuff, Sledge. We started making out when he told me about tourniquets and I dunno if that’s normal or what but it’s kind of hot and if he’s going to have a kink at least he doesn’t want to like tie me up or anything.”

Sledge follows the sentences as best he can, nearly blacking out when Babe drops the word cock but he’s amused and interested all the same. “So you came?” he asks, not sure he’s gotten the story straight. Almost losing his mind at his own curiosity.

Babe shakes his head again. “Nah. Neither of us did. But,” he exhales and smiles and it’s adorable and wrong and icky and amazing, “next time. He said next time we did it he was going to make sure we had more time. And a guarantee that Harry would be out all night.”

“Harry walked in on you guys?!”

“Kinda. Ish? Is that an answer? We were dressed again when he came in. But I’m pretty sure he’s well aware of how Roe normally looks. Disheveled out of his mind is not that state.”

Sledge smiles, he can’t help himself. Babe’s happiness is infectious. Like a venereal disease. “But he did say next time?” He asks and Babe nods. “Wow. Good going, Heffron. It’s like Roe’s made an honest woman out of you.” And Babe blushes such a shade of red at that that Sledge knows he’s hit on something else. “What’s that face?” He demands.

Babe’s smile goes sour, embarrassed. His cheeks look like they could put a tomato to shame. “Well it’s just, more like an honest man. I think. Honestly. See, Gene, and I didn’t know this before because he’s Gene, but he talks dirty and he was groping me through my pants and the entire time he was just telling me how much he wanted to feel it,” Babe pauses and Sledge needs him to finish the thought even though he knows that his psyche will absolutely not accept it, “inside of him.” Babe says in a quiet rush.

It strikes Sledge like a blow and he knows from Babe’s expression that he probably matches him in face shades. “God. Wow. I think I need to vomit that one out.” He says, standing shakily.

“Vomit rainbows?” Babe asks hopefully, not getting up to help Sledge as he wheels unsteadily toward the bathroom.

Sledge chuckles over his shoulder, grins over at Babe. “Probably.” He admits. “Remind me never to inquire so forcefully into your sex life again, Heffron. I honestly think I might get sick.”

Babe smiles back, nods. “Sure thing, Sledge.” He says. Then, as an afterthought, “Thanks for making me do that. And hearing me out and all.”

“Not a problem, Babe. It’s what best friends do.”

***

Text from Sledge to Roe: just a fair heads up. babe told me everything.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: Everything everything?  
Text from Sledge to Roe: funny he said the same thing when I asked what had him so giddy he nearly broke his neck jumping trampoline on his bed.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: Did he break something?  
Text from Sledge to Roe: probably would have the floor but we’re on the ground level. lucky us.  
Text from Sledge to Roe: really he’s fine. sleeping tight. I just wanted to let you know that I know and that tomorrow everyone probably will.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: Because Babe is terrible at keeping secrets.  
Text from Sledge to Roe: well yeah but also because he’s fucking head over heels. I don’t think he could keep this under wraps if he tried.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: Really? Well, thanks for telling me.  
Text from Sledge to Roe: don’t thank me just don’t fuck it up or I’ll send Snaf to skin you and present it to me as a cloak.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: Sure you wouldn’t rather my heart in a box? I hear that’s popular these days.  
Text from Sledge to Roe: tempting but nah. you’re a doc you help folk. I’ll donate the organs, keep the skin.  
Text from Sledge to Roe: bill might want your balls tho.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: Thank you for the warning.  
Text from Sledge to Roe: don’t sweat it and don’t worry. everytime I see you with babe you guys have looked really happy.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: I think that’s cuz we are.  
Text from Sledge to Roe: ugh. gotta go vomit more rainbows now see you tomorrow I’m sure.  
Text from Roe to Sledge: If you’re actually vomiting rainbows please seek medical attention. I’m pretty sure that’s a definite sign of cancer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Band Of Brothers/Pacific post. Hope everyone likes it. Feel free to leave me comments or suggestions.


End file.
